Boyfriends and Milkshakes
by Scyrie
Summary: Canada was just expecting a nice visit from America, but somehow it got to be a bit more than that. T to be safe


Canada sat in his backyard on the rocking swing, smiling at nothing in particular. Reaching down, he scratched behind the ears of his polar bear cutely. A few minutes later, Canada had a visitor, one named America, who just pranced into his backyard. Sitting beside the blonde, America grinned, using his foot to rock the swing.

"Sup?" he asked.

Softly smiling at America, Canada quietly squeaked as the swing rocked back and forth. "Oh, nothing much. What's up with you…?" he questioned slowly, not quite used to America's slang.

"Not much either, I'm a little bored," America responded. Smiling enthusiastically as usual, he motioned towards Canada's kitchen. "But I made milkshakes if you like that kinda thing."

Nodding with an actual smile, Canada softly laughed. "You didn't have to do that, America… I don't know why you're so nice to me…" he muttered.

America playfully clicked his teeth at Canada. "The heroes are always nice, aren't they?"

Blushing a light pink, the blonde nodded, tilting his head again at America. "They are," he agreed. "And they always get the perfect girl… what's your ideal girlfriend?" he asked.

Tilting his head at Canada as well, America leaned back in the swing. "Hmm…" he muttered, thinking about it for a while. "Y'know," he began, "I don't think about girls often. Not to sound like Frenchie, but guys are the cooler gender. Hotter, too~" he said, almost sexually, staring at Canada out of the corner of his eyes.

Raising an eyebrow, Canada turned to America, pulling his polar bear into his lap. "Really?" he asked. "I never would've thought that about you… then what's your ideal _boy_friend?"

America paused for a while, then smiled at Canada. "Well, anyone who can put up with me, really. But I guess he has to be nice, positive, and good with kids and animals. As for appearances, I don't care too much… but I do kinda have a thing for blondes."

Looking away, Canada hugged the polar bear to him with one arm. The other reached up to play with his hair nervously. "Really?" he repeated.

Still smiling, America nodded at the blonde. "Mhmm. I think they're cute," he said, poking Canada's shoulder playfully. "Kinda like you."

Turning back to America again, the blonde shook his head slowly, blinking. "I'm not cute… England, or Poland, or Russia… they're cuter."

Blinking back, America made a 'pfft' noise, and laughed. "They aren't my type whatsoever."

"But…" Canada started with a slight pout. "We're practically siblings," he continued, blushing bright red. "Isn't it wrong for us to have feelings for each other…? I-I mean for _you_ to _possibly_ have feelings for me…?"

Scooting closer to the blonde, America put a comforting hand on Canada's shoulder, tilting his head at him. "If I just happened to have feelings for you, and you just happened to return them, there would be nothing wrong with us being together. Isn't the whole point of love to be with someone you care about no matter what happens?"

Canada nodded, nervously playing with one of the polar bear's ears. "Yes…" he whispered.

Playfully pulling on a strand of Canada's hair, America smiled. "You alright there?" he asked, trying to cheer Canada back up.

Canada smiled softly back at America, batting at his hand, dipping his head in a small nod. "Yeah, I'm alright."

Tilting his head with a smile, America slowly leaned forward and very softly kissed Canada, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away. Standing up and trotting into the kitchen, America yelled from inside, "I'll get you a milkshake so you can think about your reaction to that kiss, Canada~!"

The blonde widened his eyes as he was kissed, blinking in shock. Flushing a dark scarlet all across his cheeks, he didn't even hear America's shout, instead just spacing out. Dreamily, he stared off at nothing, lifting his hand to his lips, wondering if it _had_ been a dream.

Eventually, America returned with two milkshakes, a vanilla for Canada and a strawberry for himself, offering the vanilla to Canada. When the blonde didn't notice, he playfully rolled his eyes, kissing him again to snap him out of his trance. As Canada squeaked, he sat next to him, still holding out the milkshake.

"Ya don't hate me, do ya?" he asked.

Finally taking the milkshake, Canada shook his head, blushing darker though. "I wouldn't hate you, America…"

Sipping at his milkshake, America quietly laughed at Canada's reaction. "Well… I guess it's your turn to answer. What do _you_ want in a boyfriend, Canada?"

Blinking, Canada tilted his head, once more breaking into a dreamy, spaced-out smile. "Well, he has to notice me, first of all, and not just sit on me… and he has to make me laugh and smile, I wouldn't want to have a depressing boyfriend. And I like guys that are taller than me…"

America grinned, just staring at Canada. "Go ooon~" he said, grinning wider as he sipped from the milkshake.

Pouting, Canada looked away, hugging the polar bear tightly. "Well that's like all you said, so why should I…?" he asked.

Once more, America scooted closer to Canada, his grin now an ear-to-ear one. Placing a hand over the blonde's, he kissed the other's cheek. "It's adorable to hear you practically describe me," he explained.

Canada pouted more, still looking away from America. "Sh-shut up! You were basically describing me, but I didn't say anything about it…" he muttered.

Tilting his head, America giggled under his breath. "You really put up with me…?" he questioned.

Canada shook his head, glancing over at the other blonde. "I don't put up with you… I'd rather be with you than anyone else…"

America moved to sit in Canada's lap, playfully straddling him and wrapping his arms around the blonde's neck tenderly. "You even like how touchy-feely I am?"

Squeaking, Canada uncomfortably rested his hands on America's shoulders. "It's new, but I don't hate it," he said with a slight tilt of his head.

Smiling warmly, America shifted closer to Canada. "You even like how terrible I am at hiding my feelings for adorable blondes named Matthew?"

Blinking, Canada tilted his head even more, blushing again. "I'm not adorable, but I don't hate that, either."

Rolling his eyes, America poked Canada's forehead. "If you weren't adorable, don't you think someone as blunt as me would say so?"

Canada quietly 'meep'ed at America, shrugging with a small smile, and looking up at him through his hair. "I guess so…"

Quickly kissing Canada, who kissed back softly, America smiled and laughed again. "Then shut up."

Playfully rolling his own eyes, Canada nodded. "Alright, alright."


End file.
